


the historian and the morgue operator

by dia (efharisto)



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Alternate Universe - University, M/M, just goofin around tbh, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 04:34:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18865813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/efharisto/pseuds/dia
Summary: Vegeta’s a European history professor. Goku’s a mortician who teaches autopsy labs. We’ll see where it goes from here.





	the historian and the morgue operator

“What can you tell me about European philosophy in the years following World War I?” 

 

Vegeta called on the first (and only) student to raise their hand. “Mainland Europeans became logical empiricists,” The girl said. “They decided merit based on what was scientifically verifiable. English-speaking countries tended to be more existential. This ushered in the prevalence of atheism in Europe.”

 

“Well put,” Vegeta responded, “But incorrect. Mainland Europeans were the existentialists, while English speaking countries went towards positivism. Make sure you read the nuances of the text carefully.” 

 

The rest of the lesson had gone smoothly after that. The nine AM class he taught every Monday and Wednesday was his least favorite by far- the majority of the attendees took the class not out of genuine interest, but to earn the history credit that every student was required to fulfill at the university in which he taught. The highlight of his Monday was his four PM ancient Greek history lecture, which spoke volumes on the dull quality on his life.

  
  


-

 

As it turned out, this particular Monday was persistently going as poorly as possible. The horribly slow elevator to the ground floor was a welcome solace as his day drew to a close. The freshmen essays he had been grading the hour before gave him a headache on-par with terminal fucking brain cancer. A complete lack of effort from the class was blatant- at least ten of them didn’t bother to meet the minimum page requirement.  _ Less effort from me,  _ he reasoned.  _ Plus, I get to fail these lazy bastards. _

 

“Wait!” A man’s voice called out just as the elevator doors began to shut.

 

Vegeta pressed the ‘doors open’ button, much to his own chagrin.  _ Can I not be alone for a second? _

 

The man who entered, tall and muscular, wore what Vegeta absentmindedly recognized to be scrubs.  _ A medical professor, then. Why isn’t he in the Briefs building? _ What first struck him were the eyes, black and yet somehow radiating light. The next thing he noticed was the man’s scent, which was that of strong chemicals. Vegeta couldn't keep his wince- the smell was sickening.  _ A biochemist, perhaps? _

 

Still, he was gorgeous. Vegeta wasn’t one to be impressed by looks alone, but he was fully prepared to drop to his knees right then and there. Trying to keep his stare subtle, he ogled the man. The orange coat he wore would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else, but he made it look designer. 

 

_ I wonder what else he’d look good in. _

 

The man smiled meekly, seemingly bashful despite Vegeta not saying anything. “Sorry,” he began. From the word alone, Vegeta found that the voice was clear and incredibly expressive. “My juniors had their cadaver lab today. Always come back smelling like I took a bath in embalming fluid.” He laughed-  _ fuck, what a gorgeous laugh-  _ and scratched the back of his head, fingers burrowing through black hair that rivalled Vegeta’s own in terms of sheer volume.

 

His brows shot up. The man didn’t strike him to be a forensic pathologist; frankly, Vegeta just couldn’t see someone so vibrantly animated work with dead bodies all day. The thought made his stomach turn- there was a reason he was a historian rather than a biologist. He couldn’t stand the site of anything beyond a bit of blood.

 

He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t responded until the man spoke again. “I’m Goku,” he introduced himself. “I’m a coroner by trade, but I got my forensic pathology degree and’ve been teaching pre-med students for a couple of years now. The morgue was too dull for me.” Goku laughed again. Vegeta was mesmerized by his highly expressive face. “I’m still there part-time, though. Autopsies are really interesting, you never know what’s going to be brought to you!”

 

_ He sure does talk a lot. Not that I mind.  _ He finally found his voice. “I’m Vegeta,” he returned, going for a handshake. Goku’s palm was rough and exceedingly warm-  _ my God he needs to hold me right now-  _ and his grip was firm. “I teach European history, but I specialize in eastern European history.”

 

“What’s in eastern Europe?” He spoke with innocent curiosity. “France?”

 

Vegeta decided that the question was endearing. “France is in western Europe,” he corrected. “The east is Bulgaria, Greece, Serbia- Orthodox countries, mostly.”  _ What am I doing? I have never spoken this much outside of a classroom setting. _

 

“What’s Orthodox mean?” Goku asked, smiling impossibly wider. “I’ve heard the word, but I always forget to ask what it means.”  _ Jesus, he’s cute. _

 

Vegeta settled on a vague, “It’s a type of Christianity.” He wasn’t in much of a mood to discuss theology. “What made you choose mortuary sciences?”

 

Goku paused, presumably in thought, before answering. “I like medicine, but I’m too clumsy to work on living people. That’d be a disaster!” Though said with a joking tone, Vegeta didn’t doubt the validity of the statement. It didn’t take him much effort to envision the tall man tripping over air. “What about you? Why history?”

 

Vegeta shrugged.  _ Good question. _ “It was a last minute decision, honestly. I took an advanced Euro class in high school, and it was harder than I thought it would be. I ended up cramming so much that I came out with a repertoire of historical knowledge that would have been arbitrary if I stopped studying, so I made it my major and never thought of trying anything else.” Now that he thought about it, he never had any initial proclivity for the humanities. “I hated history up until that point, but when I learned to properly study and memorize it as a subject, I could do it better than anything else.”

 

“That’s amazing, ‘Geta!” ‘ _ Geta? _ “You must be real smart if you can remember all that stuff.”

 

He waved a dismissive hand. “Says the doctor. I  can only imagine how difficult that was. History is nothing compared to med school.”

 

“I can remember what muscles look like and memorize the names of chemicals. Now, understanding the lives of people from a thousand years ago? That’s tough. Being able to remember fifteen kings named Charles and the things they did is super complicated. To me, history’s harder than any medical stuff. You keep the past alive.”

 

_ Interesting perspective.  _ Vegeta would readily admit that he was apt to belittling himself. He had a hell of an inferiority complex. 

 

“I like your sweater,” Goku complimented, changing the conversation that was too deep to be having with a stranger in the elevator.

 

He looked down at his outfit, adjusting the collar of his blue turtleneck. It  _ did  _ accentuate the contours of his back well, he’d admit that.

 

The doors clicked open, and they exchanged brief goodbyes. Vegeta hope to catch the elevator with him again.

 

-

 

“Bulma!” Goku sang as he entered the woman’s absurdly spacious office.

 

She skipped the greeting.  _ “Someone’s  _ happy,” she said with a grin. “What happened?”

 

“Nothin’.” He attempted a tone of brevity, but the excitement in his voice betrayed him. “Okay, fine! I saw a cute guy in Shenron Hall. Don’t freak out!”

 

Bulma, of course, was already in the process of doing just that. She stood from her desk and squealed, hands coming down on the table. “Oh my god, you just mentioned something other than food, fighting, or dead bodies- of course I’m gonna freak out!” Her wrist clasped his, and Goku knew she was genuinely excited for him.

 

He allowed a dopey smile to overtake his face. “His name’s Vegeta; and he’s the sweetest, most soft-spoken  guy I’ve ever talked to.”

 

Her grasp retreated immediately, and she froze. “Vegeta  _ Breigh?”  _

 

Goku shrugged, taking a seat at her desk and opening the drawer he knew to be Bulma’s snack horde. He picked a granola bar and took a bite, speaking with his mouth full. “Uh, I dunno. Didn’t ask. He’s a history teacher, though- tonsa black hair, real stylish. I felt a little dumb standing next to him in my dirty scrubs.” He continued to ramble despite his better judgement (or, perhaps when it came to Vegeta, his lack thereof). “He never wanted to teach history, but he started doing it and just never stopped. He’s real smart.”

 

She looked incredibly confused. “Yeah, uh, that’s him.” She left it at that, seating herself on the desk. Never had Goku seen the genius look so lost. “He told you all of that?”

 

“Yeah, what’s the problem, B?” He fought to level his voice, but it came out as a nervous squeak.

 

“Nothing!” She scratched her chin. “Vegeta’s great, really. I’ve known him for years. In all of those years I’ve never known him to just... willingly tell a stranger his life story. He usually isn’t one for conversation, and he makes it known. He’s one of my closest friends, actually- I never introduced you because I thought you would dislike him.” Suddenly, Bulma’s face lit up. “Oh. Oh my  _ god.” _

 

“What?  _ What?!” _ Goku replied, frantically.

 

Her smile grew impossibly wider. “Kakarot Goku Son, I have reason to believe that Vegeta totally digs you.”

 

Her use of his full name proved to Goku that she meant business. He withdrew the first snack from the drawer he could get his hands on- a muffin this time, nice- and shoved most of the thing in his mouth. “Really?” He asked, voice muffled and nearly illegible.

 

Bulma understood nonetheless. “Really.” She plucked the remainder of the muffin from his hand and took an equally large bite. “Why were you in Shenron Hall?” She asked.

 

“I wanted to see Krillin,” he responded, referring to his best friend who taught English in the same building as Vegeta. “He wasn’t there, so I left.”  _ Thank god I did- a second later or earlier and I would've missed Vegeta’s elevator. _

 

“Well, now you have more than one reason to go the English building.” She smiled. “I’ll make sure you two see each other again.”

 

He grinned right back. “You better.”

 

-

 

**iMessage**

_ Today, 9:33 PM _

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** vegeta

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** vegeta BREIGH

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** i hear someone has a crush on a certain mortician 

 

**_V:_ ** What? You know Goku?

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** i’ve known him since he was 11 and i was 16 but that’s not the point. how do you feel about him?

 

**_V:_ ** What?! You’ve known him for twenty years and you never thought to introduce him to me??

 

**_V:_ ** You’re the bane of my existence, woman.

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** yeah yeah i know, now what are your intentions with my kakarot?

 

**_V:_ **  Kakarot?

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** yeah, goku’s just his middle name

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** +CONTACT; Goku Son

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** text him. i have a meeting so im turning my phone off but if i find out you havent contacted him i’ll personally end your life

 

**_WOMAN:_ ** byebye good luck :)

 

**_V:_ ** What

 

**_V:_ ** Wait Bulma what

 

**_V:_ ** BULMA

 

-

**iMessage**

_ Today, 10:04 PM _

 

**_V:_ ** Hello Kakarot

 

**_Goku:_ ** :0 How did you know my name? Are you a psychic?

 

**_Goku:_ ** Oh wait. Bulma. Duh.

 

**_V:_ ** I’m curious as to how you already know who this is.

 

**_Goku:_ ** Uhhh about that

 

**_Goku:_ ** I kinda asked for your contact info as soon as I found out you were friends w B LOL

 

**_V:_ ** Fine by me, Kakarot. What are you up to?

-

**Author's Note:**

> this ideas been bouncing around in my head for a while lmk what you think!  
> requests/talk to me about vegeta: riss-i.tumblr.com


End file.
